Grayrose
by Ambrosia Ice
Summary: Ashley was a child when her life turned upside down. She was forced to drink from The Mortal Cup when she was four, over the next two years she was shot full of angel blood and that's what stole her color. For nine years, she lived with the Iron Sisters, until they sent to her to LA. Can she learn to trust the people in the LA Institute? Can she make a friend, before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

She was the mistake of Valentine. The Clave didn't want to admit she existed, which was why she was raised by the Iron Sisters until she was fifteen.

Ashley Grayrose's life had taken a turn for the worst when she was four in 1990. She'd been a Mundane, someone with their whole life ahead of her. Until she'd been kidnapped by the Circle. She'd been forced to drink from the Mortal Cup with no warning, no preparation.

She almost wished she _had_ died when she was just a child. The pain would have been over, at least.

Ashley wasn't that lucky. She had screamed for hours, sobbing and wailing for her parents. She had been just a kid. She'd been shot up with more angel blood after the initial drink than she should have been exposed to.

Her dark eyes, dark skin, dark hair, had all turned to a silky snow white. She remembered her last memory of being able to see before that was stolen from her.

She remembered cursing God and all the Angel's and Nephilim. How dare they let this torture continue? The angel blood made her stronger, gave her more insight, which made the hatred in her heart grow.

She was six when the torture finally stopped, later learning that the Uprising had failed and Jocelyn had fled the Shadowhunter world.

That was when she'd been discovered. After the house had burnt down, she'd been found stumbling blindly around the surrounding area, puncture wounds from the surenges clear as day against her skin.

She'd been whisked away and taken to the Council for her testimony. The Mortal Sword was just as bad, if not worse, than the two years of torture she'd somehow lived through.

With her having so much extra Angel blood in her, they had wanted to eliminate her and whatever threat may arise with her. It was the clearest memory of hear early childhood that she clearly recalled.

They would have killed her, too, if both the Silent Brothers and Iron Sisters hadn't pointed out that she was _just a kid_ and _didn't have a choice in anything that happened to her_ , _you shouldn't punish an innocent for something they couldn't prevent._

Even with the small act of kindness, her hatred for the world she'd been forced into felt uncontrollable.

" _I realise, Ashley, that the world must seem like a dark place right now. You have to have faith that this happened to you for a reason. How else could the cruelties of the world make any sense?"_ It was a calming voice, she realised, almost as if whoever had spoke knew the pain she was going through.

Even at six, she scoffed at such nicities. She'd been exposed to to much, at to young of an age.

"She cannot keep _Rose_ as her last name." someone said softly. She could feel the eyes being taken off of her and to the person who had spoken. There was a murmur throughout the crowd.

Ashley's heart pounded in her chest _Rose_ was the last thing connecting her to her family. They couldn't take it away from her, not when they'd taken so much already.

"Grayrose." They finally decided and her pulse slowed. They hadn't taken the name fully away from her, but it felt like they where dehumanizing her the more they spoke.

" _life does get better, it may seem dark and cold and lonely now but it_ will _get better. If you don't believe anything else about the world, believe that."_

 **2001**

The bitterness in Ashley seemed to grow more and more each day. Her time with the Sisters had taught her how to squander the hatred and _attempt at_ playing nice with others. Not that she'd had a chance to make any friends here own age.

She'd slowly learned to trust the sisters as she learned from them. She'd learned how to be a damn good fighter. She'd learned how to see without seeing. She'd learned how to be a Shadowhunter, to write runes on herself (and on others, though admittedly the dummy she'd practiced on hadn't didn't squirm away or turn into Forsaken when she did some squiggly line wrong).

Reading came naturally to her. And even though she refused to admit it, so did being a Shadowhunter. But almost a decade of training did that to people.

She hadn't uttered a word, she numbly realised, since she'd been forced to by the Mortal Sword. No one pushed her, and for that she was greatful.

"The Clave has decided that you're old enough to rejoin society. A portal will be shortly opened to take you to Los Angeles, California."

So the state. That's where she'd be going. She'd be a Ward of the Institute there instead of a Ward of the Sisters. She'd been miserable here, but she didn't know how to act around people. No one ever visited them, except for the Brothers. They hardly counted.

"Go gather your belongings, Ashley." numbly, she nodded. She didn't care for the emotion she felt, or for the emotion she heard from the ones who basically raised her.

 _You can't cry Ashley. You haven't cried since you were eight. You didn't cry with the Silent Brothers giving you your first Rune at ten. You can't cry now. You can't show emotion. You shouldn't feel_ anything. _You are a weapon and they don't know how to use you after a decade of studying you. That's why they've finally decided to send you away._

Taking a deep sigh, she pushed open her door. A suitcase was on her bed. She picked up her whip, sliding it onto her wrist. As she packed, she locked away the turmoil she was feeling.

A few short minutes later, she was sure she'd gotten all of her belongings. Not like she had much to start with, but it was a decent amount.

She carried it back to the Caditel where a portal was humming. She cringed at the sound. She'd never been to LA and even if she had, her using portals was a risk she didn't want to take. One had to _picture_ where they were going.

It was the crippling thing about being blind. Being familiar with an area didn't mean she was actually going to get to the right place.

She turned to the Sisters and suddenly wanted to give them a hug, which was unusual. But her situation was anything _but_ normal.

She felt someone, probably a Warlock, offer her his had. It was the only way to almost guarantee she got to the right place, if she could bring herself to hold someone's hand. Human contact didn't fly well with her, but she pushed past her irrational fear and took him hand.

"I'm Malcolm, by the way. Malcolm Fade. I'm the High Warlock of Los Angeles." she didn't like his tone, it seemed to innocent, but she hardly cared. Warlocks deceived by nature. It was the demonic blood in them. Probably.

When she didn't say anything, she felt his gaze turn to the sisters, confusion radiating off him.

"Can she not talk? I didn't know a mute Shadowhunter even existed." his gaze turned back to her. "in fact, I don't think I've seen anyone quite like her." she forced her eyes not to roll.

"Valentine Morgenstern experimented on her when she was a kid." Magdalena said coldly. The name sent chills down her spine and she struggled to not have a panic attack at the name of her tormenter.

Malcolm's eyes widened in realization, Ashley was sure he felt stupid for not realizing who she was earlier. There wasn't anyone else who'd be raised by the Iron Sisters. Nobody who wasn't one of them had ever lived on Wrangel Island. Unless they planned on becoming one of the sisters.

"There has been many rumors about her." Malcolm commented. "The children don't believe she exists," he said slowly. "They don't _want_ to believe she exists."

"We are aware, Warlock. Enough chit-chat. Take her to the Los Angeles Institute."

The clipped tone made Ashley feel like they hadn't wanted her here any longer. Had it been their idea to send her away when she was just starting to learn to trust again?

She pushed her hair out her eyes before glancing at Malcolm, silently asking him if they could go now. The conversation had distracted her and she realised that the Warlock was still holding her hand. She squeeze it, demanding his attention.

He tutted. "Impatient, are we now?" he said teasingly. "Can't wait to get away?"

She growled at the comments. Teasing wasn't something she was familiar with. Neither was joking, for that matter.

Hesitantly she took a step forward, towards the portal sound, her suitcase firmly held in the hand that wasn't being held by Malcolm.

Before she could comprehend what was happening, he had pulled her into the portal and out the other side. She gaped at the sudden heat the greated her. She felt sweaty and she hadn't even gone for a run or stabbed some punching bags.

It was to hot and she wanted to go home, to go back to the island.

"you'll get used to the heat, Grayrose." Malcolm told her, as if he could read her mind. Maybe he could. Warlock magic was unknown to her. She unclapsed her hand from his and pulled in back, letting it hang limply by her side.

He looked injured, but it didn't matter to her. The place felt familiar, like she'd been here before. Her eyes widened at she got a flash of colour.

Suddenly, she wasn't aware of her body. She wasn't aware of her surroundings. She felt as if she were being sucked back in time, when she knew she wasn't.

She saw color. She saw the city lights. She glanced around, wary of the vision. What was the point of seeing something she'd never see?

" _Mama! Papa!"_ a voice called. She realised, dimly, that it was hers from before she was taken.

" _Mommy? Daddy? Where is you?" Little-Ashley called again. "There are some mean looking boys!" she was hysterical at this point, she ran around the house screaming for her mother and father when she slipped in something. Looking down, the children was confused. It was red goo? Where had the red goo come from?_

" _Daddy!" She screamed, trying to stand up in the puddle but kept slipping._

" _Daddy! Wake up!" She started crying. She finally decided on crawling her father's sleeping form, the goo coming out from a cut in his neck._

" _wake up, Daddy!" She screamed as she was picked up by strong arms._

 _She thrashed. "NO!" She screamed for the hundredth time that hour. "Wake up Daddy! Wake up!"_

" _He isn't going to wake up, sweetheart. He's never going to wake up."_

 _Something was forced between her teeth and she had to take a drink of it. Pain seared through her. She started thrashing harder until-_

"You alright, Ashley?" a voice pulled her back to the present. She was shaking and she could feel tears form in her eyes. Her throat felt raw from screaming she'd done a lifetime ago.

Her heart pounded in her chest. They'd wondered what all the extra angel blood in her body would do, but she didn't think memories of the past (and maybe the future, later), was what they where expecting.

She tried to shrug it off, the memory still haunting her. She gave Malcolm a small nod after her breathing evened out. She pulled her hair back and allowed Malcolm to lead the way to the Institute, which was, ironically, right down the street.

The walk seemed like ages and if she couldn't feel the glamour hiding her from people without the Sight, she was sure she'd be stared at.

Once they got to the front steps she turned to Malcolm, in the short time she'd known him, he'd somehow earned a little of her trust. Or maybe that was just the after shock of the vision. She knocked loudly on the door and she could hear people scrambling inside. She was mildly amused by it.

"Yes? How may we help y-" the woman who had answered cut herself off. "You're Ashley Grayrose, correct?"

After a small, uncertain, nod she was quickly ushered into the Institute she glanced back at the High Warlock but realised he was already gone.

"Everybody, this is Ashley Grayrose." The woman said to the room of children. One was around her age, another a few years younger than the girl around her age. Soon she learned their names.

Helena Blackthorn was 14, her full brother, Mark Blackthorn, was 11.

Then there was Julian Blackthorn and Emma Carstairs who both where six.

Ty and Livi where four.

Dru was two.

After that she couldn't keep track.

"Imma call her Ash!" Emma announced after introductions where done. Ashley sucked in a breath. What good where Nicknames if nobody knew where they came from? What good where they when a name was already short? Or the first nickname anyone got was when they'd turned 15 a few long days ago?

 **A.N:**

 **I don't own TMI or the characters well, I own Ashley Grayrose, and maybe the idea of this story. Miss Ashley does not have the Voyager Rune one her right hand, instead she has a Soundless one (since it kind of looks like the Voyager).**


	2. Chapter 2

**2001**

Ashley couldn't take her gaze off of Emma. Here she was, fifteen years old and more timid than a mouse and then there was Emma, who was almost ten years younger than she was about as loud and headstrong as she'd heard most Shadowhunters where.

She wished these guys knew her better, knew how to read her thoughts… She didn't want to learn how to talk. She'd known how, at one point, but it had been so long since she'd felt any urge _to_ talk that she wasn't sure she'd recognize it if it was a brick wall and she ran into it full force.

Still… she knew normal people needed to talk. Needed to socialize. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She smiled shyly at Emma before looking to the one who had welcomed her in and introduced her to everyone. She wanted to get out of the spotlight, to make everyone forget she was here.

"Why isn't she talking?" the Carstair girl asked. "Can she not talk?" the boy, Julian, if she recalled right, whispered something in Emma's ear and Ashley felt like shrinking more into herself.

"Don't be so rude, Emma." someone chastised the girl. "You'll scare her away before her first hour is up." The voice came from the eldest Blackthorn child. Ashley looked away from the crowd.

"Sorry about Emma." Helena said softly, coming to stand in front of her. "She gets into more problems than should physically be possible."

The blind Shadowhunter finally dragged her eyes from the ground and looked at Helena, comprehending of the first time, that the Blackthorn was part Faerie. So there was at least two odd ones. They were both more than humane, more than just a Shadowhunter. "You can choose any room, really. We'd all love you to choose a room closer to us, of course, but that doesn't mean you can't-"

Ashley smiled softly, Helena was trying to be as kind as possible to her, but that hardly meant a thing. She subtly gestured to the stairs and the younger Shadowhunter seemed to get what she was asking. Thankfully.

Helena lead Ashley towards the rooms, the silence wasn't awkward and it seemed like they both were equally reserved.

As she was leading by the rooms, the Half-Fae didn't have to explain whose room was whose. She knew, without a doubt, where each child, and adult, slept. She could feel the rooms of those yet to be born.

Ashley stopped outside a room, feeling drawn to it. Helena noticed the change and stopped. They weren't far from the others, in deed the room that was going to be _hers_ was next to Helena's.

"Do you want this room?" Helena asked softly. She pushed open the door and Ashley knew she had chosen the right room. It _felt_ right. It would take some time for it to truly be her own, but she was sure it would feel homey in no time.

Ashley turned her gaze to the other girl, hoping she got the clue that she wanted to be alone. With the soft _click_ of the door closing, she finally relaxed. To many changes in one day. To many strange emotions. She wasn't used to kids, and Emma made her more than a little nervous.

If she just stayed, locked up in her room, they wouldn't notice she's missing. Probably. Most likely they would, but she didn't plan on getting close. She wasn't going to get close to these kids. She wasn't going to trust anyone.

Her heart sputtered at the thought of not seeing Malcolm again. Yes, she would have to stay far, far, _far_ , away from the others. At least while she gathered her bearings and was able to be the frost she grew up in.

Rubbing her face, she put her suitcase in the corner and refused to unpack. She put her whip on the dresser. She moved over to the window and noticed the sun had started to go down. She wondered what time it was.

She was hungry. Or at least she thought she _should_ be. Who knew how long it was since she'd last eaten? How long had she been hiding in her room? Hopefully not long, because she had no sense of time in this place.

She rummaged through her suitcase, trying to find her training clothes. Officially, when she was training, she was supposed to wear the field uniform (if nothing more than to get used to fighting in it). However, on her own time, she could wear whatever she wanted. Like if she wanted to take out some pent up anger or some emotion in the training room, then she could wear whatever she wanted.

She pulled out a sports bra, a tight-fitting spaghetti strap, her yoga sweats, and sneakers. She quickly changed before softly opening the door. She heard voices from down the hall, and the clatter of plates and silverware.

The smell of homemade food drifted over to her and her stomach growled in protest. She ignored the hunger and turned toward the pull of the training room. If felt like a long walk, and maybe that was because of having not wanted a tour of her new, temporary, home. _You're assuming the Clave will let you live anywhere else besides the Institutes, the island, or Idris._

Her fists clenched at the thought of never being free of this God-Forsaken world. She'd be free, she'd make sure of it. They can try to treat her as an equal, but she _remembered_ them wanting to kill her. She _remembered_ what she'd gone through as a child, why she refused to talk and why she couldn't see.

Angrily, she pulled her hair into a messy bun, almost tearing her hair hour in the process. It had been years since she'd felt such a powerful surge of anger and hate. Oh, she knew it was there and she knew it was a part of her being- the anger and hate boiled in the pit of her stomach every waking hour, maybe even when she slept. She didn't know what she felt when she was unconscious.

She turned and slammed her fist into the wall she was walking by. The pain of the impact pulled her back from the dark emotions she was starting to feel. She didn't want to be pulled back into the spiraling pit. The Sisters had helped her get out of it the first few times it had happened… after that, she'd had to learn how to help herself in that regard.

She could feel the blood running down her knuckle and she took a deep breath before continuing on her way to take out more emotion on an undeserving punching back.

Ashley made sure her blood didn't drip onto the floor and when she got to where she was going, she made her way over to where the first-aid kit _had_ to be.

Shaking, she tightly wrapped the bloody thing before pushing it out of her mind.

She started with stretches before making her way over to the weapons' rack. What did she want to work on? She wanted to pick up a bow and arrow but it was illogical to even think about it. She wouldn't be able to predict where her enemy was going to be.

 _This is just practice, Ashley, pick up that bow and arrow and_ learn _how to use it, even if it won't be any use in the future._

Ashley wasn't sure if it would be a good idea to use a two handed weapon after bloodying her hand. It wasn't like she'd be able to do properly hold it. Maybe learning how to throw daggers and swords would be ideal. Her whip was, in a way, a long range weapon, even if it was closer to her than other long range weapons would be.

She picked up a dagger. It felt to uneven in her hand, so she put it back and tried again. She didn't know how many she'd tried before finding the right one. Once she found the right one, she heard voices drift down the hall.

She froze and wondered if someone had seen where she'd gone. She shook her head, trying to clear the worry. So what, if they did then she could just threaten them with a dagger. Admittedly, she would have preferred her weapon of choice but that was neither here nor there.

The door pushed open and she curled her lips. She didn't want to be bothered, not by anyone. She wasn't a team player. She wasn't someone who played well with other Nephilim. She acted, and sometimes pretend, but if she had a choice in the matter she _never_ would have chosen this life.

"Ashley!" called Helena, "Have you been in here the whole time? We were looking for you when we sat down to eat. I went to your room and you weren't there…" she paused. "We haven't started eating, and the foods still fresh, if you want to join us."

Ashley shook her head and could feel the disappointment coming off of Helena. "If you insist, then." And Helena left, her younger brother following close behind.

She couldn't help but growl at where the two elder Blackthorn siblings had been. Why did they insist on trying to be friendly when she wanted nothing to do with them. She turned and flung the dagger as hard as she could, not caring about hitting a target, or anything in particular.

It fell short of hitting the wall and landed on the floor with a thud. She glared at it, as if it were the cause of all the turmoil she felt.

She stalked over to the dummies, started beating on one of them until her bloody knuckle hurt and her other one was throbbing.

She started kicking it. She started biting it. She started _abusing_ it until it was as broken as she felt.

"My God, Ashley." she spun on her heels and glared at the intruder. Didn't they know she was busy? Couldn't they _see_ she needed to get whatever emotion she was feeling _out of her system_?

Honestly, she couldn't sense who it was and she blamed it on the emotion fogging everything. As long as she didn't have to abuse their training supplies on a daily bases to keep herself under control, she'd be happy.

"Why did you _destroy_ that dummy?" the voice was just words. Ashley stayed firmly in her spot, not showing any response to the words. She heard footsteps coming towards her and she took a step back. The person didn't stop coming towards her.

When they got to close to her and, if they had wanted to, they could have touched her and she wouldn't have been able to stop her natural response to punch whoever was touching her and make them regret ever laying a finger on her when she didn't let them know that it was _OK_ to touch her.

Thankfully, they clearly knew enough not to try and have physical contact with her.

"You can feel, you know. It isn't bad to feel."

Of course it was. Feeling lead to weakness and pain. That's why she couldn't be close to anyone. The Iron Sisters were different, they were secluded, they _couldn't_ be hurt.

Her fist snaked out, trying to hit her target. The other person's face would have been ideal, but they dodged it.

And suddenly, she was in her first fight with someone she _couldn't_ sense (it was actually her first fight that wasn't staged and she didn't think she'd be asked what she had done wrong afterwards).

She was already worn out from her earlier training. Despite being an excellent fighter (in her opinion), she was soon on her back, her head hitting the floor first and she had to bite back a cry. Her arms and legs were pinned to the floor and she didn't try to fight her way out.

Ashley couldn't hold back her glare and she heard a sigh of relief from the other person. "You're so … _different_ when you show no emotion. It's unnerving. Mark and I can read you, even if we haven't known each other for a day." her heart sped up. They couldn't read her. It wasn't possible. It _couldn't_ be possible.

She hadn't spent more than ten minutes in the same room with Mark or Helena or any of the Blackthorns, really.

"I know what you're thinking, Ashley, you don't think we could know you so well… and you're right. We don't know you, but we can learn more about each other. We can communicate with you, and us you, we'd just have to train with each other."

Ashley didn't want to train with anyone. She wanted to train alone, she wanted to be alone. If she could figure out what memory she'd seen when she'd arrived in LA… then maybe she could learn to trust others.

 **A.N**

 _ **BLACKTHORN GRAYROSE**_

 _ **Gray is a shade of Black**_

 _ **Rose comes before Thorn**_

 _ **I DEFINITELY DIDN'T MEAN TO DO THIS BUT NOW I HAVE TO GO WITH THEM BEING THE BEST OF BUDDIES. IT WAS GOING TO BE A RAVENROSE WHICH WOULD HAVE STILL BEEN A SIGN OMG**_


End file.
